


blow a kiss, fire a gun

by thebetterbina



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Boss Hank Anderson, Bottom Connor, Bottom Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Cockwarming, Crimes & Criminals, Inspired by Twitter, M/M, Organized Crime, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, The Author Regrets Nothing, Top Hank Anderson, Under-Desk Blow Jobs, connor is basically his boytoy, cute little boytoy, id like to thank my dick and twitter jericho, tumblr said no sex so i went to twitter and did it publicly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 19:45:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17049437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebetterbina/pseuds/thebetterbina
Summary: Hank isn't sure how he'd ever become so lucky — lucky enough to have an eye candy so gorgeous as Connor was and always willing to spread his legs on command. So far, he hasn't encountered Connor saying no to sex; and as far as he's concerned, Connor hadn't even indicated a preference of how or where they did it.inspired by this particular twitter artworkby the ever amazing@game_ming619also inspired by all the damn twitter jericho threads on mob boss hank and boytoy connor my dick was instantly hard at the mention





	blow a kiss, fire a gun

Smoke curls, lazy tendrils with each drag of the shortening cigarette. The blinds are drawn, soft filter of sunlight through the cracks to give just enough view for Hank to see whatever might happen outside. Sharp raps on the door draw his attention, a gruff affirmation is all that's needed before another presence fills the room. Arms locked behind a rigid posture, voice ringing clear despite Hank facing away from the messenger.

 

“Boss, it's Chris — he's been hit.”

 

Hank returns with a low hum, contemplative, he's not particularly panicked by the fact; he knows his men are more resilient than most. Another breath of the nicotine air before he gives his reply.

 

“Can't have that now can we? Make sure they pay.”

 

“Of course.”

 

The hand he raises is dismissive, gesture familiar to his men as a sign to be left alone. Heavy woodwork doors close with a soft click, Hank's left to more private company.

 

“Connor. That's enough.”

 

It's returned with a whine Hank finds more endearing than most, soft wet  _ pop _ of bruised reddening lips coming off his dick and adoring brown eyes looking up at him from between his legs. Despite the command, Connor returns to the ministrations — kitten licks along the shaft, pouting like a child about to have their candy taken away.

 

“ _ Connor _ .”

 

Name uttered a little more harshly, larger palm encloses the back of the younger's scruff — pulling him up like a person would to their rather irate pet. Hank notes with pleasure Connor's equally stiff member, delicate curve and beading with precum. Almost definitely oversensitive from the near hour long foreplay and cockwarming session.

 

“Ride yourself on me.”

 

The simple demand is met with a little more enthusiasm, Hank releases the hold and watches Connor scramble onto the chair — far too eager but still graceful as he swings each leg across the arm rests; a beautiful sight, spread out, flushed red, trace remains of spit on the sides of pallid, cherry lips and puckered hole leaking lubricant from earlier preparation. 

 

By this point, Hank really doesn't have to do anything, Connor angles himself just right; and proceeds to sink down onto the throbbing member without so much of a pause, head thrown back and lengthy moan escaping breath.

 

“So good for me.”

 

He watches Connor practically  _ keen _ under the praise, tiny little shivers as he takes Hank's full length to the base without complaint. Eyes shut, short mewls everytime Hank so much as twitched. 

 

“Come on baby boy, ride me.”

 

Hank isn't sure how he'd ever become so  _ lucky _  — lucky enough to have an eye candy so gorgeous as Connor was and always willing to spread his legs on command. So far, he hasn't encountered Connor saying  _ no _ to sex; and as far as he's concerned, Connor hadn't even indicated a preference of how or where they did it. 

 

He remembers fingering Connor through a meeting with other Family heads once, their leering eyes never leaving Connor's writhing body. The raw envy that prickled green when Connor showed no interest, and absolute disgust, at the thought of being handled by anyone other than Hank. 

 

(That was the night he fucked Connor harder than most, poor boy practically screaming his voice hoarse — but if his men heard anything they didn't say; even if they did refuse to meet his eyes the day after.)

 

Blue eyes watch, fascinated and always enthralled, lithe form rising before sinking down — repeating the motion while two arms snake around his neck; soft pants and wanton desire against his ear. Hank only relaxes, palms rested on either side of the armrest, idle thumbing of the sock garters but making no move to touch skin further than that. There's really no need, Connor works himself up just fine without Hank ever having to do anything.

 

He can tell when Connor reaches the end, when movements become a little more erratic and more frantic — moaning becoming soft cries and eager rutting; desperate to chase the end that Hank has never bothered denying him. Connor comes untouched, clenching tightly around Hank enough to have him grunt, spurts of cum landing on his suit. 

 

A single finger traces the sculpture of a refined jawline, watching sweat bead and fall. Breathing evening out to something more levelled, lust filled haze slowly dispersing from warm honeyed eyes. Connor is always beautiful in these moments of the afterglow, reminding Hank of those Renaissance paintings of angels and their folded wings, serene expressions of what absolute tranquility depicted even in the chaos.

 

“I guess it's my turn huh?”

 

Hank wastes no time in lifting Connor, the younger male practically squeaking before being laid across the desk. Paper becomes strewn, pens lazily rolling off the desk. Look of alarm crossing younger features at the dawning realization that Hank hadn't even cum, let alone soften, during the entire time. Without the grace of a pause, Hank hooks the slender legs over his shoulder — and rams straight home.

 

Connor  _ screams _ .

 

It's a sound he relishes before continuing the brutal pistoning pace, he watches fat tears bundle at the corner of gold speckled eyes from overstimulation. Smaller hands finding purchase to grip the edges of the table, body laid and arched like a temple as Hank drew each cry from hitting just the right places.

 

“H _ aaaaaaa _ nk —”

 

A choked moan and Hank smiles fondly, loving how receptive the smaller body always was; how eager and ever ready to present another debauched scene for him to commit to memory. 

 

“Are you gonna come again darling? Gonna come for me?”

 

“Yes _ yesyesyesyes _  —”

 

Connor's eyes roll, another orgasm ripping through spent body and once again tightening down on Hank enough for him to reach his apex — one, two, and he's spilling inside of Connor and fucking him through the high. Squelching of leaking cum from a throughly filled hole a sound he's never gotten sick of.

 

Hank presses a kiss; soft, delicate, and altogether loving on the exposed calf of his pet. 

 

“So perfect, aren't you? Just for me.”

 

Below him, Connor returns with a coy, knowing, little smile.

**Author's Note:**

> [inspired by this particular twitter artwork](https://twitter.com/game_ming619/status/1037004324818190336) by the ever amazing [@game_ming619](https://twitter.com/game_ming619)
> 
> my dick is so pathetically hard for boytoy connor, honest to god id write more if my motivation allowed so pls validate me i love being validated
> 
> annoy me on my twitter pls i need friends [@therealconnor60](https://twitter.com/therealconnor60)


End file.
